


Let's get on Base Together

by Beatrice17



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Laser Tag, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pairings are implied except for Nate/Tys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-13 03:04:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14740844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beatrice17/pseuds/Beatrice17
Summary: “The battle of the best friends, eh?” EJ taunts Nate as they’re all suiting up. Nate’s is the Red Team this time.“There are no friends across enemy lines,” Bernie replies sagely.





	Let's get on Base Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leanermina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leanermina/gifts).



> Wow, this is my first one!!!
> 
> Ok, just an explanation: I came up with two ideas for Avs laser tag fics, but I couldn't decide which one was better. So leanermina and I each took one and wrote it! That's why ours are a little similar.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy it! Comments shall be treasured!

Tyson is sleeping in the seat next to Nate. He’s boxed in, since Tyson is in the aisle seat, but despite the fact that there are plenty of teammates awake on the bus for Nate to talk to, if he could only reach them, he has no desire to do so. He’s perfectly happy to stay right where he is, alternating between looking out the window as the Arizona desert whips by and staring at Tyson. How relaxed he looks as he sleeps. His cheekbones and smooth jawline and cute chin. Drinking in the sight of him as though Nate won’t see Tyson every day for the next nine months, as though he’s water. 

You see, Nate is…Nate is slow. He’s lumbering, sometimes gets so far into his own head that he becomes absolutely useless. Sometimes he just doesn’t get the joke and has to sit there, embarrassed, as someone explains it to him. It takes him longer to react to things, like loud noises, than other people. Except when he’s playing hockey, of course – that’s why he loves it so much. Instead of him trying to keep up with what’s going on, everyone’s trying to catch up with him.

He’s the exact opposite of Tyson. Not in hockey, he’s amazing at hockey, of course, but just…in life.

Tyson is quick. Witty, funny, and perceptive. Sure, he gets a little flustered sometimes, but Tyson always pulls himself back together. Always keeps going. He keeps on top of everything in his life without losing his kindness and openness. He also rather transparently manages Nate’s life, too. Tyson keeps Nate lighthearted no matter what’s happening on the ice or where the team is in the standings. They go most places together, live near each other, and alternate where they hang out between them. Nate likes Tyson’s cozy apartment much better than his too-big house, but when Tyson comes by and Nate catches him making sure he’s done his laundry (sometimes, he hasn’t) that nothing has expired in the refrigerator (many times, it has), and other general adult homeowner stuff, it makes something in Nates’ stomach flutter. Tyson…takes care of him, and god, Nate loves him for it.

Like, real, romantic love, not just friend love. It’d been sneaking up on him for a while, maybe since he first met Tyson years ago, he just hadn’t noticed. And Nate is trying to decide what to do about it. He’s been thinking about it a lot, actually. It’s been months of just thinking, though, and Nate’s starting to get a little frustrated.

It’s just…Nate’s not brave enough, or intuitive enough, to get it right. He’d do it wrong, say the wrong things, pick the wrong moment, and it would all be wrong. He knows Tyson is bi, an identification Nate has come to realize (very slowly) that he shares; Tyson told him years ago, at the beginning of their friendship. Nate hasn’t plucked up the courage to come out to him in kind either, and it just adds to his frustration. If he were Tyson, and he liked Nate, it wouldn’t have taken months to decide that he had to do something about it. And he wouldn’t just be frozen trying to decide how to tell Nate, either. Tyson would just do something, like…like seat himself in Nate’s lap one evening when they’re watching a movie in his house. Or come to Nate’s room on the road, strip down to his boxers, and curl around Nate as they lay down for their pregame nap. Just tuck love and intimacy into their daily lives and routines as though it had always been there and show how right and great it will be all at once. Nate is a little jealous of Tyson’s emotional abilities, but mostly he’s just pining.

The bus comes to a stop, and the abrupt forward movement wakes Tyson from his doze. He opens his eyes and meets Nate’s gaze.

“Were you staring at me while I was sleeping, man?”

“Uh, no,” Nate lies, “I just looked over at you to see if you would wake up by yourself, because we’re here.”  
“We are?” Tyson smiles, big and genuinely excited. “Fuck yeah! Laser tag!”

“Yeah,” Nate agrees, smiling back, just charmed to see Tyson happy.

“Well then, come on, Nate!” Tyson jumps up from his seat as though he wasn’t just sleeping a second before, and just expects Nate to follow him. Nate does, he always does, and he always will.

The crowd of their teammates filing into the building is bigger than usual. Since it’s the preseason, the roster isn’t finalized yet, so more players made the trip to Arizona to play the Yotes than they do during the regular season. Nate makes sure to stick close to Tyson. When they’re all in the lobby, Nate makes to go up to the front of the group, to join Gabe and EJ, but Tyson catches his wrist.

“You’re gonna pick me for your team, right?” Tyson asks. “You wouldn’t pick anyone else over me, right?”

“Yeah,” Nate blurts out, “yeah, of course, you’re first on my list. You always are.”

Nate’s a little bit embarrassed by what he said (it’s not his fault! He was distracted! Tyson was touching him), but Tyson just grins, and squeezes Nate’s wrist before letting it go. Too busy admiring how happy Tyson looks, he doesn’t remember to go play his part in this whole thing until Tyson rolls his eyes and shoves him forward, towards Gabe and EJ.

When Nate joins them, Gabe begins.

“Hey, hey, guys!” He calls. Everyone falls mostly silent in order to listen to their captain.  
“So,” Gabe continues, “we’re here at Stratum to play laser tag for some fun and team bonding! But just playing games with no stakes is boring, so we’re going to draft teams and play a double Round Robin, then use that to decide seedings for the tournament to determine who is the best! The prize is a secret, but it’ll be good, I promise! So, we’re thirty guys, right? There are three of us in the leadership group, so we’ll need three more guys to serve as team captains for the draft, and each team will have five guys.”

“Hammy, Hammy!” Nemeth shouts as he tried to push the goaltender forward. He’s blushing, shaking his head, and digging his heels in, though, unwilling.

“You should pick JT!” Josty calls out. JT shoves him, visibly embarrassed.

“Teriyaki!” Tyson exclaims.

Tyson seems to have opened the floodgates, because then loads of guys explode into a cacophony of noise, eager to nominate their teammates.

“Alright, alright!” Gabe shouts. “Quiet down!”

When they do, Gabe continues. “So, obviously there are some great candidates to choose from, so,” Gabe pauses as EJ leans forward and whispers something in his ear, “okay, so I think I’ll say the three other captains are…Yaky, Sven, and Nemeth.”

“Whoo!” Nail shouts with a fistpump as he makes his way to stand alongside Nate. Nemeth makes his way up quietly, blushing. He’s also smiling excitedly, though. Gabe must have realized that he’d wanted to do it but also didn’t want to submit his own name. Sven, as usual, looks self-satisfied, as though getting chosen was his due.

“Now, I will go first, because I am captain,” Gabe declares, and skillfully dodges EJ’s attempt to ruffle his hair in retaliation. “And I pick…Mr. Blake Comeau!”

“First overall pick, whoo!” Blake exclaims sarcastically as he walks over to stand with Gabe, to the laughter of the rest of the team.  
It’s a good pick; Blake’s a stalwart guy, but his sensibility belies an aggressive streak a mile long. Nate hopes he’s next so that he can be sure to pick Tyson – he’s so good at laser tag, he’s so sneaky – but his heart sinks as Gabe gives the second pick to EJ instead.

“I pick…,” EJ glances over at Nate with a smirk, as though he knows, the bastard, “T-Bear!”

“We’re going to dominate, my dude!” Tyson exclaims. When he reaches EJ, they fistbump.

“Nate, your pick?”

“Yeah,” Nate shakes himself out of his disappointment, “yeah, I pick…Mikko.”

“Whoo!” Mikko bounds his way towards him, “We best team, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Nate smiles at him. That smile turns to a smirk as he catches Nail’s exaggerated pouty face, sad he couldn’t pick Mikko himself.

Nate’s team ends up being him, Mikko, Josty, Comphy (after Josty had begged for Nate to pick JT, too, claiming that together they were an unstoppable laser tag duo), and Bernie. Their first three matchups go well, mostly – they win two and lose one. Then, they’re poised to play Team EJ…and Tyson.

“The battle of the best friends, eh?” EJ taunts Nate as they’re all suiting up. Nate’s is the Red Team this time.

“There are no friends across enemy lines,” Bernie replies sagely.

“Yeah.” Nate says as Tyson walks over to him. He elbows him lightly. Tyson squawks.

“What was that for, Nate?”

“Tys, you gotta know – I’ll do anything to pull out the win, our friendship doesn’t matter. Sorry, not sorry, but it’s war.”

Tyson blinks at Nate. Then, he takes a step into his personal space.

“Anything?” he asks, raising a perfect eyebrow. The room is dark, but so are his eyes, and Nate swallows, but meets his gaze.

“Anything,” Nate agrees, but he’s not quite sure what he’s agreeing to, anymore. Tyson goes a little pink. His eyes drop obviously from Nate’s eyes to his lips, he gives that infuriatingly hot little smile of his, and just like that Nate’s heart is hammering. He opens his mouth to say…something, he’s not even sure, but then the people running the game tell them to form up at their respective team entrance doors, and Nate has to go take charge of his team.

As they enter the giant battle room, he discusses strategy with JT and Josty. They decide to be aggressive and go after the extra point targets in the Blue Team’s territory. There’s five of them, so JT and Josty, and Mikko and Bernie pair up, leaving Nate alone. He reassures them that he’ll be fine – it’s a tactic that has (mostly) worked for them the last three games, after all. 

Nate is more excited for this game than all of the last three. When the siren signals the start of the game, he moves forward eagerly, with purpose. He has a secret edge in this bout, after all: he knows Tyson almost as well as he knows himself. In laser tag, Tyson is an absolute menace, sneaking around and sniping you when you least expect it. If you don’t neutralize him, he’ll demolish you. Nate has had the pleasure of helping him do it many times, but this time, he’s on the other side of that, and all of that experience makes him confident that he’ll be able to do it. He’s sure that if he does, the rest of his team will be able to easily pull out the win. The other guys on Team EJ are Zaddy, Sam G, and Kerfy, after all – while Kerfy’s competitive streak is formidable, none of them could hurt a fly, let alone effectively shoot a teammate, even with harmless lasers.

After splitting up from the rest of his team, Nate wanders around the huge labyrinth, on guard for anyone sneaking up on him, but especially Tyson. After a few minutes, he comes to an area that Tyson would love, filled with shadowy alcoves and plenty of places to hide without being exposed. He knows that Tyson will come by sooner or later – actually, it seems like sooner. Nate, listening closely, can hear soft footsteps approaching under the cacophony of cheesy arcade music and the distant sounds of his teammates’ laser guns going off. He hides in an alcove and breathes as softly as he can, trying to ignore the pounding in his chest.

As the person who can only be Tyson approaches, Nate realizes that, as usual, he’s forgotten something: what is he even going to do to neutralize Tyson? Shooting him will only get Tyson to chase him, Nate wants to waylay him, distract him. Tyson’s face from before, after Nate had said he’d do anything to win, flashes across his mind. It hits Nate in a flash that Tyson was attracted to him in that moment. It must have been that, there’s no mistaking that kind of look. But it was more than that, even. He’d looked…he’d looked at Nate as though he were hungry. Like he could devour him, put his mouth all over him, with that fucking smile on his face the whole time.

And Nate would let him. Fuck, he wants that with every fiber of his body.

In the face of all that – wow, this is probably the fastest, easiest decision Nate’s ever made -- he has to tell Tyson. Right now. Because if Tyson wants that, who is Nate to stand in his way?

Nate’s just in time, too, since Tyson walks by his alcove not a moment after his revelation. Quickly, Nate grabs him by the arm holding his gun and drags him backwards into the space. As soon as he has Tyson back against the wall, he slaps his free hand over his mouth so that he doesn’t scream, and traps the hand in which Tyson is holding his gun against the wall with his own. Tyson doesn’t really need to talk to communicate with Nate, though. His eyes and furrowed brow convey his surprise and annoyance more than well enough.

Well, here goes nothing.

“Tys…,” Nate begins, taking a deep breath, “you, you know you’re my best friend, right?”

“Including Sid?!” Tyson asks, muffled behind his hand. Nate chuckles weakly.

“Yes, including Sid,” he confirms. Tyson smiles wide and does a fistpump with the hand Nate isn’t pinning.

“Yeah, so, um, I…but…but I want to be…more than friends, now. Do you?”

Tyson’s eyes go shocked, but only for a moment. Then, there’s that look again, the hungry look, from before the game. Seeing it again, even closer, sends a shiver through Nate that he’s sure Tyson can see. Tyson drops his laser gun with a clatter and peels Nate’s hand off his face. Suddenly, he’s a lot closer, too, and Nate shivers again.

“Fuck yes,” is all Tyson says before he fists Nate’s collar with one hand, grabs Nate’s jaw with the other, and hauls him in for a kiss. Nate has to bend a little, but fuck, it feels amazing. Tyson just takes control, like he does all the time, deepens the kiss, and it’s everything Nate’s ever wanted. All Nate can do is let Tyson do what he wants, and try desperately to keep it together. They’re in public, how is Tyson able to kiss him like this, so hot, so shameless, in public?! Nate can barely think enough to care.

Then, Tyson moves his hand from Nate’s jaw to splay over his neck, a light but unmistakable touch that shocks a quiet noise from Nate. Tyson stops kissing Nate just for a second to smirk against his lips, and Nate can feel himself blush in response before Tyson licks into his mouth again. The pause is enough to remind Nate of where he is, and why he did all this in the first place. And thank goodness for that, because he’s already so turned on just from kissing Tyson that he doesn’t think he can stand this much longer without begging Tyson to touch him in the middle of their laser tag game, where any of their teammates can happen to walk by and see them. He doesn’t want to, but he has to stop this, put some distance between him and Tyson, or else Nate will never be able to think normal thoughts about laser tag ever again. And potentially get arrested for public indecency. In Arizona, of all places.

Nate takes stock of what he could possibly do, and realizes that he’s still holding his laser gun by his side. Perfect. It takes some real effort in the face of Tyson’s devastating kisses, but Nate brings up his other hand to push lightly at his shoulder. Tyson moves back immediately.

“What—”

BEEEEP.

Nate barely registers the shocked look on Tyson’s face before he turns tail and runs, ignoring the pressure that puts on his dick. He runs and runs until he finds Mikko and Bernie, and finishes out the game glued to them. He doesn’t see Tyson until the buzzer sounds, signifying the end of the game, and they all file back into the prep room to take off their sensor vests and find out who won. Tyson enters last, head down. Nate frowns as he sees that Tyson is almost trying to make himself look small, to shrink back so that no one sees him.

He resolves to talk to Tyson about what happened, but first he has to celebrate the win with his teammates; apparently, Operation: Distract Tyson was a resounding success. According to the leaderboard, Tyson got the second-least points on his team (above Zaddy, because, as he says defensively, he didn’t want to shoot any people so he just shot at the targets on the walls), an anomaly for him.

Once EJ has taken off his vest and handed his laser gun back over to an employee, he strides over to Nate, claps him hard on the shoulder, and shakes his hand.

“You pulled it out, you did anything to win, just like you said you would. Good game!”

“Thanks, EJ,” Nate smiles, “I guess this is where you’ll say that you’ll beat us next time?”

EJ laughs, and JT and Josty take this moment to come up behind Nate and drag him into an exuberant celly.

“Fuck no, they won’t beat us, we’re the best!” Josty shouts.

“Aw, fuck you,” EJ replies good-naturedly, and walks off. Josty follows quickly behind, presumably to chirp him more, and JT follows Josty. Those two haven’t been far from each other the whole day, Nate reflects. Hm.

“Yeah, really did anything to win, huh,” Tyson says quietly from behind Nate. When he turns around, Tyson’s expression is inscrutable. All of a sudden, Nate realizes just what his stunt looked like from Tyson’s perspective: that he was just fucking with him. Nate’s stomach turns in on itself.

“Tys, I –”

“Hey, Zaddy, I have important D-man brotherhood information to give you!” With that, Tyson books it out of the room, leaving Nate standing there feeling like the worst person in the world.

Nate follows Tyson and Zaddy out of the equipment room and into the lobby area, where the other guys have been hanging out while waiting for their turns to play. He tries to talk to Tyson, but Tys just ignores him, makes sure he’s always with other people, so that Nate can’t bring up the subject of the kiss without half the team hearing. Every time Tyson firmly angles himself away from Nate to talk to someone else, Nate just feels worse and worse.

Well, it seems that there’s nothing for it. Nate will just have to talk to Tyson the same way he did the first time: during their next laser tag game.

Nate goes through more games preoccupied; he barely registers if they win or lose (they lose), until finally they’re playing Team EJ once again. This time, Nate’s is the Blue Team. As he’s getting his sensor vest on, Nate makes eye contact with Tyson from across the room for the first time in hours. Nate still can’t read his expression, but it just redoubles his determination to track Tyson down and explain.

When they file back into the laser tag room and the starting buzzer goes off, Nate doesn’t feel the excitement of last time, but a grim determination. He wracks his brain trying to remember each of Tyson’s laser tag tricks, goes to areas in the room that Tyson would frequent usually, but either Tyson isn’t there or he’s turned his stealthiness up to eleven, because Nate can’t find him.

Nate has given up on trying to hide himself at all when he enters the area he found during the last game against Team EJ. He’s distracted, anxious, deep in his own head. Anyone could have snuck up on him in that moment, and someone did. In fact, that someone drags him backwards into a dark corner and slams him against the wall with force.

Tyson.

Like he’d done last time, Tyson smacks a hand over Nate’s mouth so that he can’t talk. His other hand is pressing on his chest, keeping Nate where he is.

Nate’s more preoccupied with his face, though. Tyson looks…shattered. Angry, upset, betrayed. He’s so often happy and smiling that he barely even looks like Tyson, and Nate’s heart breaks a little.

“You absolute fucking asshole!” Tyson whispers furiously. “That was such a fucking underhanded, manipulative trick, you’re not even gay, the least you could’ve done was not—”

Nate rips Tyson’s hand off his face.

“No, no, I swear, I meant it, I meant all of it, and I mean like I’m not gay but I’m not straight either, and I love you I would never do something like that to you, you’re –”

“You love me?”

“Yes,” Nate makes the most sincere eye contact he knows how, “more than anything.”

Tyson freezes for what feels like an age, but then. Then his lips quirk up. He lets out the tiniest breath of a laugh.

“Really? Me?”

“Yes, Tys, you.”

“Well, then,” Tyson steps impossibly closer, plastering his front to Nate’s, and his happy smile takes on a sly edge, “you’re lucky I love you too, you big fucking tease.”

Nate chokes on his own breath. Tyson laughs, and his hand slides up to grasp the back of Nate’s neck. Nate can’t help it, a tremor runs through him, this is everything he wants, but he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, Tyson is so close, he can’t –

“I don’t know what I expected though, you’re a naughty guy, that’s just who you are,” Tyson continues. Nate gasps; he feels like the room has gone up ten degrees. “Tell me, Nate, why should I forgive you for stringing me along for something like three years now?”

“Th-three years?”

“Yeah, Nate, three years. So? Why shouldn’t I just leave you here and pretend this never happened?”

The bottom of Nate’s stomach drops out, and his knees go weak. For once in his life, it feels like, Nate knows what he has to say.

“No, please, Tys, I’ll do anything, anything you want, I love you, I want whatever you want, please, please stay with me?”

“Hm,” is all Tyson says, but his hand tightens on Nate’s neck and he shifts to fit his thigh between Nates’ legs, and Nate can’t stop himself, he whines, it’s so good. His gaze dark with satisfaction and imperiousness, Tyson meets Nate’s eyes once more.

“Anything?”

“Yes, yes, anything, please, anything.”

Tyson smiles, big, goofy, and genuine, and Nate’s heart swells.

“Awesome,” Tyson breathes, as he finally pulls Nate’s head down to kiss him.

If the last time was like fireworks, this time is like a grenade going off straight into Nates’ chest. It’s even closer, wetter, harder than the last. Nate moans into Tyson’s mouth as he kisses him, reveling in the fact that it’s Tyson crowding him up against the wall, Tyson he’s giving this to, Tyson’s thigh grinding deliciously against him. Nate can’t help being overcome by the rush of pleasure, allowing it to pull him under. He can’t think, can only let Tyson do what he wants, and it’s glorious.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Tyson pulls away from Nate’s lips. He makes a dissatisfied sound, but it turns into another moan as Tyson begins kissing and biting down Nate’s neck. Without Tyson’s mouth to muffle him, Nate is undeniably loud, unable to keep himself from reacting to every touch. Odds are, he can be heard over the music being played through the loudspeakers if someone comes near enough, but he can’t stop himself. At a particularly hard bite just above his collarbone, Nate gasps out Tyson’s name, and he pulls away to look at him. Nate opens his eyes; he wasn’t aware that he had closed them.

Tyson looks more beautiful than Nate has ever seen him. He’s breathing hard, his lips red, a little swollen, his eyes dilated as he proprietarily drinks in the sight of Nate. He obviously likes what he’s seeing, because he’s smiling, and Nate sighs with the knowledge.

“Look at you,” he leans in near Nate’s ear to whisper, “all messed up, all mine.”  
“Yes,” Nate whimpers.

BEEEEP.

By the time that Nate even flinches at the loud sound of the laser gun hitting his chest sensor, Tyson has already slipped away with a smirk. Curse his slow reaction time. Well, fair is fair. Nate groans, turned on and frustrated, but he can’t help but smile, too. Tyson loves him! Tyson kissed him! And the way he sounded, telling Nate that he’s his…Nate won’t ever be able to forget it. After standing there for a little while, trying to calm himself down, and rearranging himself in his pants, Nate leaves the alcove to rejoin the game, that smile still on his face.

***

Later, when all is said and done, Ghetto’s sleeper team of Hammy, Barb, Warsofsky, and Dom sneak in and steal the tournament win from under Team Gabes’ noses. At the dinner they all go out to together afterwards, Sven is even more cocky than usual, and everyone has a great time chirping Gabe for not, apparently, being the best at laser tag like he is everything else. Gabe just rolls his eyes and threatens to bag skate everyone, but he’s human and doesn’t like actually acknowledging that fact. So, Nate really should have expected that when Gabe casts around the table for something new to talk about, his eyes might fall on Nate.

“Whoa, Nate, when did that happen?”

“What?” Nate looks up from his steak, confused. Gabe is smirking like he’s suddenly received blackmail about his worst enemy.

“You’ve got a thing, there…,” Gabe points to a spot on his own neck. When Nate mirrors the movement and presses a little, a small spark of pain radiates from the area. It’s a bruise.

Tyson chooses this moment to lean back and sling his arm across the back of Nates’ chair. When Nate looks over at him, he’s smiling, faint but satisfied. Oh. Not just a bruise, then. A hickey. Gosh, how did it take Nate so long to realize that? He remembers the moment Tyson put his teeth there. And it’s not like laser tag is a contact sport. Nate blushes and smacks a hand over the spot.

Okay, Gabe seeing it is fine, but if everyone else does they’ll want to know –

“Guys, guys, Nate has a hickey! Look!” Gabe declares to the whole table and, probably, half the restaurant. Nate goes even redder as he feels the eyes of his teammates land on him and Tyson lets out a little giggle. He wants to be mad at him for finding this funny, but he can’t. Nate knows that his teammates cannot be denied in something like this, so reluctantly, he lowers his hand from his neck to reveal the hickey again.

“How did you even get that?” Josty asks, leaning around JT from further down the table in order to see Nate. “We were with you like the whole day.”

“Except for when he went off by himself during our laser tag games, that was the strategy,” JT says.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Nate manages to declare.

“Whatever, you buzzkill, we can figure it out without you,” Gabe rolls his eyes at him, then turns back to the rest of the table. He clinks his water glass with his fork a few times to get everyone’s attention to begin the inquisition. “So it wasn’t any of the guys on Nates’ team who gave it to him?”

“No, definitely not!” JT and Josty reply in unison. Startled by the fact that they were so in sync, they turn to each other, chuckling. JT knocks his shoulder into Josty’s, and his answering smile is probably bright enough to light a dark room.

“I do not kiss Nate!” Mikko calls from the other end of the table. “Nice man, handsome, but no!”

“I would be very sad if you did,” Nail elbows Mikko in the side to punctuate his point. Mikko smiles goofily over at Nail and leans his head briefly on his shoulder. He’s so much taller that it looks a little ridiculous, but Nail smiles back just as ridiculously and throws an arm over his shoulder. Huh.

“I’m married, in case you forgot,” Bernie adds mildly.

“Does that matter?” Gabe asks, smirking in that way he does when he wants to be very clear that he’s joking, “You could be cheating on your wife with Nate.”

“Okay, seriously? I’d have to be insane to cheat on my beautiful Victoria’s Secret supermodel wife, the wonderful, badass mother of my child, with Nate.”

The table erupts with laughter as Gabe readily agrees with him. Nate laughs too; Bernie’s wife really is amazing, and besides, Nate has Tyson now.

“So, we’ve established that nobody on Nates’ team gave him that hickey,” Gabe says once the laughter dies down, “so that means that someone on an opposing team must have given it to him during a game.”

“EJ,” Gabe turns to him first just because he’s closest, “what about you and your team?”

“Me?!” EJ squacks. “Like Bernie, I have far more taste than that.”

“Okay, from Bernie I can take it, but from you I’m insulted,” Nate exclaims jokingly. “You are a horse fanatic with no teeth, everything about you means you have no room to have standards.”

“Fuck you, Nate! See if I invite you to the Derby with me next year.”

“Like I’d go.”

“Tys went with me last year, you had fun, right Tys?”

“No comment.”

“Well, fuck you too,” EJ sticks out his tongue at them across the table, making sure to expose his toothless upper gums. In sync despite their giggles, both Nate and Tyson give matching “ew”s.

“Well, who else was Team EJ?” Gabe asks the rest of the table.

“Me,” Kerfy says from next to Josty, “but it’s not me, either, I have a girlfriend.”

“What?” Sven exclaims. Kerfy goes pale.

“I don’t think we knew this,” Hammy smiles like he does in goal, as though he’s smelling blood, “who is she? When do we get to meet her?”

“I’m not telling you, and never, so fuck off,” Kerfy is beet red, but he stands firm despite the entreaties of the rest of his teammates around the table. “She’s starting grad school at Harvard this year, anyway, she’s going to be too busy to travel for like the next two full years at least.”

“Damn, she sounds smarter than you!” JT says, smirking.

“Not that that’s so hard,” Tyson puts in from next to Nate.

“She is, so whatever.” Despite trying to look and sound aloof, even Nate can see the proud smile he’s trying to hide, so everyone just congratulates him and drops it.

“Zaddy, what about you?” Nemeth elbows him where they sit next to each other, pretty far down the table.

“What?”

“You were on Team EJ, did you kiss Nate?”

“Oh,” Zaddy’s eyes go wide as saucers. “Oh, no. I did not. Am married, too, you know? Have beautiful baby girl. No, I did not kiss.”

Nemeth leans obnoxiously down the table.

“It wasn’t Zaddy, Gabe!” he calls. Gabe flashes him a thumbs-up.

“That just leaves G, right?” Gabe asks EJ.

“Yeah, so, how about it, G?”

“No,” Sam goes absolutely pink, ducking his head, “definitely not me.”

“You sure?” Sven needles from beside him.

“Yes, shut up, Ghetto.” Sam elbows him hard for good measure. His head bows a little further, and Nate can see he mutters something, but can’t hear it. Sven, though, lights up like Christmas morning. He grabs Sam’s shoulder, giving it a little shake.

“Something you want to share with the class, G?”

“N-no!”

“C’mon, tell them what you told me. Tell Nate, at least, he has the right to know.”

“Yeah, G, secrets are no fun!” Nate calls.

A hush falls over the table again as Sam lifts his head. He’s even redder than Kerfy was before, but he meets Nate’s gaze pretty evenly.

“I said, of course not, Nate’s not my type.”

There is a pause. Nate, determined that it not get awkward, not for something like this, decides to speak.

“You're cute, I guess, but don't worry, G, you’re not my type either.”

However awkward Nate felt saying that, it’s all worth it to see Sam’s relieved smile. Sven, realizing that the deed was done, quickly hustles the conversation along.

“Well, yeah. You heard the man, he said no.”

“Alright. Well, then, what about your team, Sven?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” EJ’s smirk is back, “there’s one more member of Team EJ that we’ve forgotten about.”

“Who?” Gabe asks. Finally, Tyson seems to be a little rattled by all this, since he shifts in his seat next to Nate. However, he also tightens his arm around Nate, fingers brushing the skin next to his t-shirt collar, so Nate lets himself relax and as he awaits what’s coming.

“Tyson, of course!”

“Oh,” Gabe turns towards him smirking once more, “well, then, Tyson, I gotta know – did you give our friend Nate that hickey?”

The whole table, it feels like, is silent, waiting for Tyson’s response. Tyson, of course, loves drama, so he takes a generous pause before finally smiling.

“Yeah, I did.”

The guys absolutely explode into noise. As he shoots an apologetic look at a passing, frazzled-looking waitress, Nate can pick out surprised, excited, and happy tones of voice. Nothing angry or weirded out or anything like that. Good. Nate just smiles and soaks it all in. Ignoring the blush he knows he has, he leans over and pecks Tyson on the cheek.

The smile Tyson turns on him warms Nate to the tips of his toes, and Nate just knows they’re going to be amazing together.


End file.
